Little Sunshine
by Foreverintheclouds
Summary: He places both his hands over the bloodied wound and presses down, the blood still flowing freely between his fingers. Chekov is still trembling, the blood staining his teeth a lurid crimson. "I know it hurts," Sulu soothes, "I know. Just hang on a little bit-" "S'okay Karu," Chekov stops him, his words broken and stuttered. " It doesn't hurt".


**Hello! So while I've been working on All The Little Things, I got an idea to right this. Not gonna lie, it hurt to even write this, but I was in a angst-writing mood, so I went for it. As always, I absolutely love hearing from you guys, so review, review, review! I'd really like to know what you guys think of this actually. Updates for my other story should be coming soon. Thank you so much!**

They'd been boarded by pirates: an alien race bred in hatred.

All of the crew splits up to secure separate parts of the ship, and clear out the intruding enemies.

Sulu makes a mad dash to engineering where he knows Chekov is shadowing Scotty for the day. He finds him hiding out with a few other members of engineering as they are just preparing to search for any pirates in the vicinity.

It's in that moment when the doors come crashing open that the feel of the world suddenly changes, and Sulu feels an awful dread build in his stomach.

He's up on a catwalk defending himself with his sword when he hears the firing of a phaser from below. Chekov is trying to hold off an attacking pirate who'd attacked him from the side.

Sulu knows he has to help as soon as he can, so he quickly increases his effort in throwing off his opponent.

For a moment, he gains the upper hand, but the pirate has a good four inches on him, and brings the spear he's holding up against his chest, pinning him against the railing of the catwalk they're on.

Sulu struggles to push the crushing weight off of him as the alien presses harder into his chest with the stick end of the spear. He roughly shoves him against the railing once more, causing a piece of piping to fall to the ground below them.

The falling debris catches Chekov's attention, and Sulu hears him gasp in surprise. Sulu is just barely able to turn his head and see the boy below looking up at him and the figure sliding dangerously close to him: spear poised and ready.

"Chekov, look out!" He cries. The younger boy turns just in time for the attacker to run up against him and shove the pointed spear straight into his lower abdomen.

"NO!" Sulu screams. The figure below looks up and violently rips his weapon from the boy, who drops to his knees with an exhale of breath.

In a moment of pure adrenaline and fear, Sulu kicks with all his might, sending the alien on top of him careening over the opposite edge of the railing.

The first chance he gets, Sulu takes off running down the catwalk and nearly leaps down the last five steps. He's there as fast as his feet can carry him and suddenly he crashes to his knees next Chekov, catching him before he can sink lower to the ground.

He pulls the small boy in to his arms, cradling him as gently as he can.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sulu comforts him hurriedly, but he can't peel his eyes away from the blood. There's _so much _blood. "Oh god," he gutturally whispers. It's all he can do not to lose every bit of food he's eaten that day.

Chekov's trembling violently in his arms, teeth pressed together tightly and breath coming out in ragged, painful gasps. "Can't-"

But his sentence ends halfway through as an awful, hacking cough rips its way through his lungs, leaving the edges of his lips red. A thin stream of blood trails from the edge of his mouth.

"Shhh, Chekov, try not to talk, okay?" Sulu all but begs. He looks around frantically in search of anyone who can assist them.

"I need help down here!" He screams. "Anybody! Please! We need help!"

His voice echoes meaninglessly throughout the empty room.

"Somebody please!" He screams again, desperate; his voice is hoarse and he doesn't even feel the hot, angry tears falling down his cheeks.

No one is coming to save them. The realization of this is too much.

Sulu turns back to the bleeding boy in his arms. "Alright I have to put pressure on it to stop the blood flow. Hang in there, buddy. We'll get you out of here, don't you worry."

He places both his hands over the bloodied wound and presses down, the blood still flowing freely between his fingers. Chekov is still trembling, the blood staining his teeth a lurid crimson.

"I know it hurts," Sulu soothes, "I know. Just hang on a little bit-"

"S'okay Karu," Chekov stops him, his words broken and stuttered. "Doesn't hurt".

Sulu pauses.

"What?" He's caught off guard for a moment, doing a double take from his attempts at staunching the blood flow to his friend, whose breathing has become even more labored.

"It doesn't hurt," Chekov says again, placing a hand over the older man's own.

Sulu feels everything inside him break. _It doesn't hurt. _

He doesn't have a response. He only shakes his head as more burning tears cascade down his face.

His little brother's face is an ashen grey now, eyelids struggling to stay open. Sensing this, Sulu jostles the boy a bit.

"Hey, hey, keep your eyes on me. Eyes on me, okay? Come on, Chekov. Look at me. Stay awake, just _stay awake_".

Chekov is barely able to glance at the pleading young man, brilliant green eyes slowly hazing over. For a moment, his gaze holds; a small, half-smile tugging the side of his bloodied mouth upwards.

And then that moments ends.

The boy gives a lurching, stuttering breath; his tiny chest heaving upward, blood lying in a garish puddle around him. His eyes gently slip close as the last wisp of air leaves him, and all is still.

Sulu sits there for a moment, wrapped in the silence; only his staggering sobs echoing off the empty walls.

"Pavel," he whispers half-heartedly as he shakes the boy softly. "Pavel," he says again, shaking him harder, waiting for some form of a reply.

Something.

_Anything_.

"Pavel, come on," he says louder now, tears choking his every word, "wake up".

The small boy in his arms remains still; motionless and pale.

"Please," Sulu barely whispers now, bitter tears falling from the edge of his chin, "you can't leave".

But there's no response.

Only a painful, deep, awful, _agonizing _silence. And all at once, Sulu _hates it_. The anger and despondency rolling inside him ignites a burning hatred for the emptiness that now surrounds him. It's _silent _and it's _cold_ and all he wants to do is end it. Scream out into the darkness.

And so he does.

He lets out a hoarse, harrowing cry that leaves his voice absolutely raw. It doesn't make him feel any better. Not the silence, the screaming; nothing.

It's all for nothing.

He holds his brother close; limp, pale arms resting motionlessly at his sides.

Sulu grasps the boy's unruly curls as he leans over into his stiff shoulder; sobbing into his bloodied and dirtied uniform.

There's a pain he can't quite place. It's inside him; writhing and contorting in agony. How he wishes it could be some form of physical pain; anything to make it so reality wasn't real.

Someone must hear his cries, because it isn't long before his family is upon him: at first joyous in victory over their enemy; only they don't know yet the cost.

Scotty's there first with Nyota and Doctor McCoy. They'd been securing the lower decks and heard the young man screaming.

Uhura's in tears, her face in her hand; slightly turned away. She can't bear to look anymore.

Scotty falls to his knees, inaudible whispering mixing with the salty tear tracks on his cheeks.

McCoy turns away completely and takes a hit on one of the metal canisters lined on the edges of the room. It resonates a painful, loud bang, but he doesn't care. The pain dulls the aching.

Soon after, Spock and the Captain arrive, stopping short when confronted with the sight of their mourning friends.

One can never really deduce a Vulcan's true emotion unless expertly versed in said matter. One who was such would say they saw despondency in the man's eyes; a broken void of anger and sadness.

Kirk is the only one to approach the two boys, his face expressionless as he kneels down and takes in the sight his sobbing friend.

He reaches out a hand to brush over the curls of his little brother; a thing he'd been so accustomed to. He sees blood in those golden brown curls, and something inside him just _breaks_. He stops short, eyes pressing shut in pain as his hand lowers and his head bows.

The tears fall silently to the cold metal floor and mix with the horrid drops of blood still staining the ground.

They stay there, in silence, the mourning cries echoing off the metal walls and stairs. The weight of the world seems to have come crashing down all in one fatal day.

They've lost their little brother.

They've lost their little sunshine.


End file.
